


Get Up Again

by JustGettingBy



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Angst, But only a little, Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Langa and Reki deserve good things, M/M, Self-Doubt, Snowboarding, Teaching, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29881233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustGettingBy/pseuds/JustGettingBy
Summary: One winter break in university, Langa teaches Reki to snowboard while on a trip to Canada. Reki’s butt hurts.
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki
Comments: 5
Kudos: 134





	Get Up Again

**Author's Note:**

> Ski run difficulty goes:  
> Green = beginner  
> Blue = intermediate  
> Black = advanced   
> Double black = expert

Reki’s ass hurt. 

There was no gentler way to describe it. 

And no—it wasn’t like  _ that.  _

“You almost had it,” Langa says, skidding to a stop below Reki on the hill. “You just need to lean into it more.”

Reki groaned and flopped back in the snow. Between the giant jacket and snow pants Langa had lent him, he was surprisingly warm, even if the wind had stung his face the only time he’d actually managed to pick up some speed. Even when he started skateboarding, he didn’t remember spending this much time on the ground—it was much easier to stand when his feet weren’t both strapped to this death board and the ground wasn’t solid ice. 

“We can go to the chalet after,” Langa said. “Get lunch. Drinks.”

At that, Reki lifted his brow and sat up as best as he could. It was a strange sensation, being unable to move his legs separately. He hadn’t expected the wave of claustrophobia that washed over him his first run; the panic of not being able to bail swelled up in his chest and led to a spectacular tumble and a face full of roughened snow. 

“I thought the ground was supposed to be soft,” he’d groaned. 

Langa only shrugged. “There’s different types of snow. Only the powder is really soft, but on those days the hills get busy. We’re just lucky it’s not completely skied off today.”

“Right,” Reki said, as if he knew what that meant. 

And so it went like that the better part of the morning. 

But now, the temptation of a burger and beer did get Reki’s attention. A break and a warm-up might soothe the lingering aches. 

He needed only to get to his feet. 

Behind his goggles, Langa’s face was unreadable, but Reki had a suspicion his boyfriend was staring at him expectantly. 

Next to them, a kid no more than five blew past, bombing straight down the hill and turning with ease.  _ Come on.  _ Why was it that kids were so good at this sport? It had to be child endangerment or something—there would never be a five-year-old at the skate park. 

“Reki?”

Reki sighed. “Can you help me up? If I move, I’m sliding all the way down the mountain.” 

Langa reached forward without another word. Somehow he managed to balance not only himself, but Reki’s weight too. With his hands in front of him, Langa helped guide Reki back to his centre of gravity without slipping down the run. 

“You good?”

Reki nodded. The motion, all in all, was familiar enough. So many of the principles were the same as skateboarding. It should’ve been easy—after all, Langa picked up skating like a natural. The reverse should be true too. Right? 

“Let’s do this,” Reki said, inching himself forward. 

“Like a snowflake,” Langa reminded him. “Just float down.” 

It started good. Reki kept his knees bent. He shifted his weight on his c-turns; the rest of the time he keeps his weight on the same edge of the board. The fresh air filled his nose and, ahead of him, the snow-covered pines lined the run before it opened up to the base and the chalet. 

Langa didn’t shoot ahead. No—what he did was infinitely worse. 

He turned around and started boarding _backward._ His whole back faced downhill; he must’ve been only looking at Reki.   
It only lasted for a moment before he turned on a dime and coasted comfortably at Reki’s side once more. 

Not two minutes later, Reki ate snow once more. 

He lifted his head, snow clinging to his chin, and groaned. 

* * *

They’d beat the lunch rush in the chalet, but only just. Langa had gone to get the food while Reki saved their spot. It was a good thing, too, because he understood both the language and unspoken rules of the place better than Reki could ever hope to. 

With a sigh, Reki put his head down against his jacket that was currently sprawled across the table. Between their coats, gloves, and helmets, Reki wasn’t sure where they were going to fit their lunches, but they could make room when the time came. The clothing (and the whole lodge, really) smelt of sweat and melted snow. Somehow Reki imagined it more high-class—like people in jumpsuits drinking hot chocolate by the fire—and less like a high school cafeteria. 

The table they’d snagged in the corner had a view out towards the chair lift and the ski racks; from where Reki was sitting, he could see his banged up rental board leaned against Langa’s high-end one. Past that, the sculpture of the Olympic rings sat covered in snow. This hill had been used as the venue for some skiing and boarding events back then—Langa told Reki that he’d been lucky enough to go and see the men’s half-pipe qualifiers with his dad. 

Reki drummed his fingers against the table and frowned. Did coming here bring back painful memories for Langa? It must’ve. Langa said Cypress Mountain was the hill he always went to as a kid. 

And, therefore, it was the one his dad must’ve taken him to. 

Reki bit his lip.  _ Stupid.  _ He should’ve thought for more than two seconds before he insisted Langa take him to try boarding. 

More than that, if this was an  _ Olympic  _ venue, it must’ve meant the terrain was good. And Langa was spending it on the hill meant for six-year-olds instead of heading to the top of the mountain. 

Reki was holding Langa back. Again. 

“Reki!” 

He snapped his head up; Langa was weaving his way through the crowd, a tray full of burgers, beer, and fries in his hands. He maneuvered around a crowd of what looked like high schoolers and set the food down in between them. “Everything alright?”

“Just sore,” Reki said. It wasn’t a lie, it was just an omission of certain facts. 

“This will make you feel better,” Langa promised. “Normally, I wouldn’t eat this stuff, but something about being on the mountain makes mediocre food taste better, even if it is over-priced.”

“Joe might disagree.” 

Langa only shrugged and immediately started in on his food. 

Reki’s stomach grumbled in anticipation—the greasy, hot cheeseburger did smell fucking incredible. Between the fresh air, the exercise, and the cold, he worked up more of an appetite than he expected over the morning. 

As he took a bite, he had to agree with Langa. This might’ve been the best burger he ever had. 

Across the table, Langa was watching, a trace of a smile ghosting across his face. “Told you.”

Reki felt his face warm. “Shut up, helmet hair.”

Langa reached up. His hair curled out from underneath a toque; his fingers brushed one flipped-out strand. “You should see yourself,” he teased. 

_ Oh no. _ Reki didn’t even want to think what the combination of sweat and the helmet had done to his spikes. Another thing simpler about skating—no helmet hair. “You should’ve told me to bring a hat,” Reki said. 

Langa looked at him. “I did. Several times. You insisted you would be fine.”

Reki leaned back in his chair and wished he would simply disappear. It was the better option compared to another afternoon of humiliating himself. 

* * *

After lunch, they grabbed their gear from the racks. Langa led the way—he moved in the direction of the beginner hill without even looking back to Reki.

_ Come on.  _ It was hard to jog with his boots and the weight of the board, but Reki came up to Langa’s side. “You don’t have to stick with me, you know.”

Langa stopped. In the moment he was frozen, Reki remembered the first moment he’d seen Langa, fully and truly. It was the first night they’d been together at S. The night it snowed in that warehouse. 

Now, it was snowing for real. Light, dry flakes dusted over his shoulders. The sun shone off the snow and caught in the kaleidoscope of Langa’s blue eyes. He’d been enough to be called Snow back in an abandoned mine. 

In his element, he looked as if he could command the weather itself. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Reki snapped out of it. “Eh?”

“I told you I’d teach you to snowboard.”

Reki nodded. “Right—but we’re only here for two weeks. And you’ve got friends and family to visit, too. You might only get a couple of days on the mountain! You should make the most of it.”

“You taught me to skate.”

“Langa.”

“Reki. You taught me to skate. I’m teaching you how to board.”

Reki sighed. Overdramatic—maybe. But Langa clearly wasn’t about to budge. “Fine. But let’s try a run on the chair, not the bunny hill. On the map, it says there’s an easy green run.”

Langa frowned. “You’ve only been doing this for half a day. I’m not sure that’s a good—”

“Oh? The dude who duct tapped his feet to a broken skateboard and a went flying down and abandoned mine is gonna lecture me on what’s a good idea?”

Langa’s mouth turned up in a quirk. “Alright. Let’s go.” 

* * *

Half-way up the albeit short chair lift, Langa scooted in close. He lifted his arm and curled it around Reki’s shoulder, knocking their helmets together. “Turn around,” he whispered.

Reki did. 

Around him, the mountains’ ridges rose against the sky. The white, heavy snow, on the pines touched the endless blue sky—the sun caught in his eyes and warmed his face. Further still, the mountains rolled into the ocean. The water snaked between smaller, tree-covered islands. On the horizon, the faint outline of more, distant islands hunched between sea and sky.

“Now look to your left.”

Reki turned over his other shoulder. At the end of the inlet, the glass skyline of Vancouver gutted out against the sky and wove in with the line of mountains behind the towers. Light caught on office buildings and condos and reflected it back towards them. 

“Woah,” Reki said. “You don’t get views like this at the skatepark.”

Langa laughed, high and clear. “No,” he said, “it’s not quite the same.”

* * *

It only took a few more minutes to reach the top of the chair lift, but somehow in that short span of time Reki deflated. The joy, the excitement… it all escaped from his chest. As he looked down the hill, he could still admit it was beautiful. Especially now that he didn’t have to crane his neck to see the mountains in the distance or the ocean. 

But from the bottom, the mountain hadn’t looked so damn steep. 

Seriously. Who decided this a green run? It had to be a blue. At least. 

Reki swore under his breath. Next to him, Langa tightened his bindings quickly and hopped to standing. 

“We can take it slow,” he said. 

“Uh huh.” Reki swallowed. His head felt lighter than he’d like to admit and, as he tightened his bindings, the same cagey feeling crept back into his chest. Like this, he was stuck in one place. He couldn’t so much as lift his feet, let alone jump off the board. 

“Reki?”

His blood pounded in his ears. Why was this so hard? Again, he reminded himself how Langa jumped on a skateboard with no hesitation. Reki swore he’d do the same. “Let’s go,” he said. 

Langa nodded. 

Reki started strong. He snowflaked. With everything Langa taught him in mind (and the fair number of YouTube videos he’d watched beforehand) he swore could get to the bottom of the run. 

He got a quarter of a way down to the first bend in the run when a skier whipped past him. Reki tried to stop, tried to avoid the collision. 

To his credit, he did manage to avoid the skier, even if it was her fault. 

Reki wasn’t so lucky. 

Once again, he fell ass-backwards into the snow. A sharp pain shot up from his tailbone; his wrists rioted as they met the ground. 

Reki could handle a few bumps and bruises. He’d experienced enough of them over his years of skateboarding. 

What he couldn’t handle was the way he did not stop. He kept moving, even after falling. His board still slid down the hill, dragging him with it, as it started to spin around. 

_ Nonono _ . Reki tried to dig the edge of the board into the snow to stop his spiral. Air rushed against his head. The only thing worse than falling down a hill was falling  _ backwards  _ down a hill. 

He reached out, desperate to stop himself, but the ground was only smooth snow. 

Just as Reki started to close his eyes and resign himself to his fate, something tugged on the hood of his jacket. A mist of snow rained over his face as the person behind him brought them to a stop. 

Finally. Reki’s gut still rocked with motion. As he opened his eyes, his body and face stinging with both pain and cold, a small bit of relief worked its way into his chest as he realized it was, indeed, Langa who’d stopped them both. 

“I miss laying on the pavement when I fall,” Reki tried to joke. 

“Reki. That looked nasty.”

“Eh, I’m fine.” Reki bit his lip. Physically, yes. He ached, but nothing had the sharp sting of a break. 

Mentally…

Reki had no clue how he was going to make it down the hill. It was so much steeper than he’d expected, and so much longer too. He hadn’t even made it to the first bend; on the lift up, he’d seen so much more terrain. 

“Reki.”

Reki rubbed his face as he started to sit up. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” 

Reki shook his head. A group of skiers and boarders wound past them, blowing down the hill with ease. 

“Are you hurt? I can flag down someone to get ski patrol?”

“No! It’s not that.” Reki cringed, his face hot. “I—I can’t make it down this hill. And I fucked it all up. You haven’t been boarding in so loong and now you’re finally here, and you can’t even go where you want because of me. I—I’m holding you back.”

Langa slid down the hill and dropped next to Reki. “Hey,” he said, his voice smooth and strong. “You’re not holding me back—not at all. I’m here with  _ you _ .” He placed his gloved hand over Reki’s. 

Reki frowned. “I know, but—”

“But nothing. I want to show you where I grew up. This is it. I want to show you all of it, okay? You’re not holding me back. You’re reminding me of all the little things I love about it here.”

Reki lifted his chin. “Really?”

“Really.” Langa nodded curtly. “Besides now we get to experience another time-honoured tradition of snowboarding.”

“Eh?”

“The butt-scoot down the hill,” Langa said with a smile. “Everyone’s had to do it at least once.”

“I think I’ll die of embarrassment.” Reki pressed his hand against his face and shook his head. 

“I’ll be right by your side,” Langa promised. “No one will say anything.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. And, if anyone does, I’ll tell them to meet me in the half-pipe.”

A smile cracked across Reki’s face. Ahead of him, Langa started to scoot down the hill on his ass, his hands dragging in the snow. 

Maybe, Reki thought as he started his own slow descent, maybe there were things in life hanging back for.

Langa would always be one of them. 


End file.
